


why don't we just pretend

by rire



Series: why don't we just pretend [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Fluff, Light Bondage, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut, and some other kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rire/pseuds/rire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s the perfect arrangement,” Kise beams, clinging on to Akashi's arm. “Come on, Akashicchi. You’re in love with Midorimacchi, I’m in love with Aominecchi, and neither of them give a shit about us. We might as well help each other get over them.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	why don't we just pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Akaki Week 2015. Originally supposed to be for Day 1 - "Shut up, Kise", but then the length of this fic (and my feelings) spiralled out of control. I just wanted to write some kinky akaki porn where did these feelings come from

“It’s the perfect arrangement,” Kise beams, clinging on to Akashi's arm. “Come on, Akashicchi. You’re in love with Midorimacchi, I’m in love with Aominecchi, and neither of them give a shit about us. We might as well help each other get over them.”

Akashi clicks his tongue. “Shut up, Ryouta.”

Kise pouts, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. Now that he’s already intruded into Akashi’s house, he isn’t going to back out. “Akashicchi. How long are you going to sit there nursing your broken heart? Why not just let me do all the work?”

Akashi continues organizing the books on his shelf. “I told you,” he says, voice perfectly calm, “I don’t have a broken heart.”

Kise doesn’t believe him for a second. “I do,” Kise says, leaning his chin on Akashi’s shoulder. “If not you, then at least think about how I feel. You’re the only one who can help me forget about him, Akashicchi.” He doesn’t know whom he’s trying to convince, Akashi or himself.

Akashi sighs, taking a book off the shelf and smacking Kise’s head lightly with it.

“Ouch—”

Just as Kise rubs his head gingerly and looks up, Akashi drops the book on his desk with an air of finality. Then he fists a hand in Kise’s hair, pulls him in, and kisses him.

He pulls away breathlessly only seconds after. Kise’s jaw drops open as his mind races to process what just happened. Akashi licks his lips and smiles.

“When do we start?”

 

\---

 

Kise has had his fair share of terrible ideas in his short lifetime, and this is definitely not one of them.

It’d been a spur of the moment sort of thing, honestly. He’d grown so accustomed to being ignored by his former teammates that he hadn’t expected Akashi to take him seriously, or even take him up on the offer.

But now that he had, well, he was going to take full advantage of it.

The doorbell rings and Kise stumbles towards the door, running a hand through his hair and eyeing himself in the mirror with approval. Hair casually mussed up, top two buttons of his shirt undone, tight pants accentuating his legs—and he’d even used some pretty expensive cologne.

He opens the door and stands still as Akashi’s eyes rake over him. They offer a glint of amusement, appreciating his efforts. Akashi himself is dressed in a crisp, light blue dress shirt and tie and khakis, looking perfectly put together as always so that Kise can’t tell whether or not he actually tried. He supposes that was the intention.

“Come in,” he says, flashing a smile and stepping aside. Akashi walks in. “Sorry my place is kinda small,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s very nice,” Akashi says, giving a nod of approval.

“Do you want something to drink?” Kise offers. The words drift like clouds in the heavy silence.

“Let’s not bother with the small talk,” Akashi says, taking Kise by the wrist. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Kise chuckles. “I love it when you take charge, Akashicchi. It’s down the hall and to the left.”

Down the hall and to the left they go, Kise stumbling behind Akashi, then being pushed back onto the bed. Up until recently, he’d been busy lamenting over the fact that the bed was much too big for one, occupying the empty space with ice cream and Netflix and tears. Now, with the back of his head pressed against the headboard, legs spread open, and Akashi above him, he felt like his heart might jump out of his throat. His breath catches in his throat as Akashi trails a finger along his jawline, tilting his chin up.

The gaze of his mismatched eyes burns through Kise’s skin, making it crawl with pent-up desire. “I want you, Akashicchi,” he breathes.

Akashi smirks, presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of Kise’s neck. While Kise’s busy gasping for air in a room that’s suddenly been deprived of oxygen, Akashi reaches behind him and grabs both of Kise’s wrists, pinning them above him in a swift motion and tying them to the bedpost.

Kise notices two things—that Akashi’s tie is missing, and that there is a presence of silky material pressed against his wrists.

Akashi leans in close, his breath tickling the spot just below Kise’s ear. “You’ll take what I give you,” he says, his voice dangerously low and _god,_ Kise could come in his pants just from this. “Are we clear?”

Kise knows Akashi just well enough to understand the implications, the heavy meaning in his words. It’s an order, a hint of what’s to come, but it’s also a request for permission.

“Yeah,” Kise says breathlessly. “That’s good. I like that.”

Akashi smiles, and gets to work, unzipping Kise’s pants and pulling them down with his boxers, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder in an act not quite befitting of the kind of Akashi that Kise usually sees. Then again, this Akashi is ravishing Kise with his gaze, eyes burning with lust and Kise can’t really do much except shiver.

Akashi curls a hand around Kise’s cock and strokes it, teasingly slow, and Kise lets out a shaky breath. It’s been so long—having someone else’s hands on him does feel different, after all. It lights a spark in him, makes the heat pool in his stomach, and as Akashi flicks his thumb over the slit, Kise can’t help but cry out.

Akashi works his cock with skilled fingers and has him leaking precome in no time. “Lube?” Akashi asks suddenly, and Kise jerks his head to the right.

“Bedside drawer,” he pants, and Akashi retrieves it quickly, pouring some onto his fingers and then circling one slowly against Kise’s hole. He tightens involuntarily and hisses a sharp intake of breath as Akashi slides his finger in, still stroking Kise’s cock with his other hand.

Akashi’s finger pushes in deeper, and Kise barely has time to adjust to the sensation before he adds another. A whimper escapes his lips as Akashi thrusts his fingers faster, deeper. Before long, he adds a third, stretching Kise open, as his other hand continues to stroke Kise firmly. He cries out, toes curling in the sheets, when Akashi curls his fingers and hits his sweet spot, pleasure surging through his body.

“H-hurry, Akashicchi,” he pants. He’s afraid he’s going to come right then and there.

Akashi narrows his eyes and pulls his fingers out—Kise whines at the loss of contact and his arms twitch weakly against his restraints. He leans in, breath ghosting over Kise’s ear. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he says, dangerously low. “Beg for it, Ryouta.”

“Fuck me, Akashicchi,” Kise chokes out. “Please.”

Akashi smiles. “Good.” He gives his own cock a few pumps, then positions it at Kise’s entrance and pushes in.

Kise’s mouth falls open and a groan escapes as he hitches his thighs around Akashi and adjusts to the feeling. He’s surprised to see that Akashi is visibly holding back, rolling his hips slowly, giving Kise little, sweet twinges of pleasure as he looks down at Kise through hooded eyes.

“Harder,” Kise prompts, and then Akashi jerks his hips forward, burying himself inside Kise. The sweet burn inside him is almost painful—Kise lets out a strangled cry and struggles, to no avail, against the tie that binds his wrists.

“Fuck, Ryouta, you’re so tight.” Akashi sounds almost awed, and Kise feels a little bit of pride bloom in his chest. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

“Yeah—” Kise breathes, his voice already ragged around the edges. “Yes, God yes, please—”

Akashi snaps his hips forward relentlessly, fucking Kise hard into the mattress until his back is arched off the bed and his entire body trembling with need, and when he comes apart the only name that falls from his lips is Akashi’s.

 

\---

 

Akashi goes home after that, and doesn’t come back around until three days later, presumably to let Kise get some rest. But that doesn’t happen, because all Kise can think about whether he’s lounging on the couch flipping through the channels or lying awake in bed is how good it felt to have Akashi’s dick filling him from the inside out. His muscles are still sore and worn out, but he doesn’t care. He masturbates to the memory again and again, but it’s not quite as satisfying, reaching orgasm by his own hand.

When Akashi finally comes over, Kise shuts the door, pulls him in by the collar and kisses him, but Akashi pulls away rapidly, grabbing Kise by the wrist, and slams him up against the door, keeping him at arms length.

“Hello, Ryouta,” he drawls.

“Akashicchi,” Kise almost whines. He doesn’t even have room to be embarrassed—he’s wanted this too long and too badly.

“What would you like to do today?”

“You,” Kise mumbles. “Well, actually, I want you to do me, but—”

Akashi laughs, sharp. “Cheeky, aren’t we?” He brushes the tip of a finger against Kise’s chin and trails it along his jawline. “Perhaps I’ll have you earn it. You might not have anything planned for today, but I certainly do.”

The first time had apparently been just a taste. Akashi certainly has much more up his sleeve, Kise discovers, as he pulls out a silk blindfold and Kise’s dick twitches with anticipation.

“I want you to tell me if, at any time, you want me to stop,” Akashi says. Kise nods, eagerly. There’s no way he’d ever want that because Akashi might as well have looked right into Kise’s head and read a list of all his kinks, but he appreciates the sentiment regardless. Akashi wraps the blindfold around Kise’s head and proceeds to tie his wrists to the headboard.

With his vision enveloped in darkness, his other senses immediately become more alert. Every kiss Akashi presses against his exposed neck feels hotter, every touch Akashi trails along his chest and thighs tingles when he doesn’t know it’s coming.

He hears something uncapping, but still lets out a surprised yelp when Akashi’s fingers slide into him. Akashi works him open with a steady rhythm. He curls his fingers, hitting Kise’s sweet spot and Kise can sense Akashi’s smirk as he tightens and groans unabashedly. He wonders what he looks like to Akashi—wonders what Akashi looks like right now, wants to see and touch him so badly it’s driving him crazy.

Just when Kise thinks he’s about to come from Akashi’s fingers alone, Akashi grips the base of his cock with one hand. Any other time, Kise would be embarrassed at the needy whimper he lets out, but he doesn’t have the energy to feel anything else but _want_ and _need._

“I’m not done with you yet,” Akashi breathes into shell of Kise’s ear. He thrusts inside of him all at once, and a choked moan falls from his lips. The sharp burn makes his head spin and thighs quiver, and all he can do is tighten his legs around Akashi, thrusting his hips up to meet Akashi’s, pleading again and again until Akashi finally loosens his grip on his cock and Kise’s orgasm crashes into him like a wave.

He’s never come so hard in his life.

 

\---

 

They always fuck at Kise’s place, understandably—there are always too many servants around at Akashi’s. It goes something like this every time. Akashi always disappears for a day or two, allowing Kise to recuperate or jack off repeatedly in the shower, but mostly the latter. And when he comes back, they don’t bother with the small talk, getting down to business right away.

He knows that this is what Akashi needs—control. With Kise, everything is exactly the way he plans and the way he wants, and it’s perfect because Kise’s just as willing to give it up. He’s sick of being alone with his thoughts, and Akashi replaces them with something else, something tangible and enjoyable, and suspects Akashi feels the same.

In any case, it doesn’t take long for Kise to discover that Akashi is kinky as hell. Sex with Akashi, Kise comes to realize, is something of an adventure. And Kise loves every minute of it.

Some days, Akashi shows up with a bag and a secretive smile, and he won’t tell Kise what’s in the bag until they’re in the bedroom. Sometimes he shows Kise the toys beforehand, making Kise’s knees quake with anticipation. Other times he doesn’t tell Kise what he’s going to use, but makes Kise promise he’ll speak up if there’s anything he doesn’t like. He blindfolds him, handcuffs him to the headboard and Kise won’t even know what’s coming until the beads slide into him—and it feels fucking amazing. Sometimes he buys Kise the prettiest and most expensive women’s lingerie he’s ever seen in his life and fucks him on his fingers with the lace panties still bunched halfway down his thighs. And sometimes he doesn’t touch Kise at all, just ties him up and fucks him with a vibrator, gradually cranking it up to the max and making Kise shudder and _scream_ as he comes untouched.

Then there are other days. Other days, when they’ve been apart for so long, busy with work or other errands, that neither of them can form coherent words when they finally meet. Those days, they hardly make it to the bed. They fuck on every surface available in the house, so that later when Akashi is gone and Kise walks over to the kitchen to make food he recalls how Akashi had taken him right there and how he’d gripped the counter until his knuckles went white, so that when Kise’s fingers skirt over the armrest of the couch he remembers how he’d thrown his head back and screamed Akashi’s name over and over as Akashi fucked into him like there was no tomorrow.

He realizes, later, that it’s all part of Akashi’s intentions to imprint himself onto every part of Kise’s surroundings, thus effectively erasing certain other people from Kise’s memory. And hell, it works.

But he can’t help but wonder how Akashi himself is faring.

Akashi, who always wears that same look on his face—cool, collected calm. The only times he looks at all affected is when he’s buried balls deep inside of Kise, cheeks flushed and eyes focused and dark. But he always comes and goes, staying only long enough to shower after they’re done. Kise doesn’t even think they’ve had a meal together or even gone out at all.

He understands that Akashi wants to keep it strictly sexual. After all, the last thing the two of them need is another emotional attachment when their last ones completely fucked them over. And it was Kise’s idea to begin with, anyways, so he’s not quite sure why this bothers him the way it does.

The day Akashi finally begins to open up to him, Kise regrets ever having had these thoughts.

When Akashi walks through the door Kise senses something amiss, and his thought is only confirmed when Akashi hauls him over by the collar and pins him down on the couch, lips pressing hard against his own, licking into his mouth with desperation and need. His fingers curl insistently into the fabric of Kise’s shirt. A part of him wants to be flattered, but he knows it’s not just because of him, especially since they’d only met up two days ago.

Kise manages to pry Akashi off of him, shooting him a concerned glance. “Akashicchi, is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Akashi replies curtly, looking somewhere just past Kise. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He reaches down and pops two buttons off Kise’s shirt. Kise catches his wrist and narrows his eyes at him.

“Akashicchi.” Kise sighs. “I’ve known you for over ten years now. There’s nothing you can, or need to, hide from me.”

Akashi stills, making no move to remove his arm from Kise’s grasp, and the room falls uncharacteristically silent. Then he opens his mouth.

“The wedding is next month.”

Kise doesn’t have to ask to know who it is. It’s obvious enough from the look in Akashi’s eyes. Midorima…and Takao. Kise’s heart plummets all the way down to his feet and he sits up straight. Akashi gets off him, taking a seat on the couch next to him. Even now, his hands are clasped together and he’s staring straight ahead, pretending like nothing’s wrong.

“He told me on the phone earlier today,” Akashi explains, his voice chillingly calm. “We are all invited—although Daiki, who is of course overseas, won’t be able to make it.”

Kise’s heart gives a ghost of a stutter at the mention of Aomine’s name, but he pushes those thoughts away. In a way, he’s the lucky one. He wouldn’t have to face Aomine, wouldn’t have to face his failure, for several more years to come. But Akashi—Akashi, who remained the close confidante of a completely clueless Midorima—would have to compose himself, mask his heartbreak and show up in a fancy suit and toast his best friend and first love and wish him luck with someone else.

The week Aomine had left, words wedged like daggers in Kise’s heart, he’d thought that was the worst heartbreak he could ever experience. So why is it that watching Akashi deal with his broken heart hurts much more than his own? Hot tears well up in his eyes, and before he can stop them they overflow, rolling down his cheeks.

Akashi turns to him, genuine surprise in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying, Ryouta?”

Acting on instinct, Kise wraps his arms around Akashi, pulling him close. Akashi freezes in place, neither pushing him away nor hugging him back.

“I’m sorry,” Kise murmurs against Akashi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Akashi says softly. He pulls away, reaches up and wipes Kise’s tears away with his thumb. “Don’t cry for my sake. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry that I’m not him.” The words tumble out of Kise’s mouth. “I’m sorry I’m not him, but I want you anyways. I want you to be happy, because you deserve it. I wish I could make you happy.”

“You do, Ryouta,” Akashi whispers. Kise can’t tell if he means it. He wipes furiously at his tears with his sleeve and tries his best to smile.

“Sorry, Akashicchi. I shouldn’t be the one crying. Hey, tell me if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” He pauses. “If you want, you can wear the blindfold tonight, and you can pretend like I’m Midorimacchi when you fuck me. I can perfect copy his voice if you want. Actually, I’m not sure if I can do that, but I can try?”

Akashi glares up at him. “Really, Ryouta? Do you really think that’s what I want?”

Kise blinks at him. “Is it not? Or if you don’t feel like having sex tonight, that’s fine too. I’ll go buy you some ice cream and put on a shitty romance movie and you can cry to your heart’s content—”

Before he can even finish, Akashi pulls Kise down on top of him and shuts him up with an abrupt kiss.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Kise’s jaw drops open. He’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating, because there’s no _way_ Akashi just said what he said.

_“What?”_

Akashi looks fondly up at him and Kise’s heart hammers in his chest. “I want you to fuck me, Ryouta,” Akashi says, like it’s the most normal thing, as if they totally do it this way all the time and Akashi is not the best dom Kise’s ever had the pleasure of banging. Yeah, Kise is pretty sure he’s dreaming.

It’s not like he’s never imagined it the other way around, or that he wouldn’t be okay with it. More than okay, in fact. Akashi is pretty, with a slender figure and a nice ass that no one in their right mind wouldn’t like to fuck.

Akashi raises an eyebrow in slight irritation. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No, no,” Kise says hurriedly. “I do. I so do. But I just, I mean, are you really okay with that?”

Akashi sighs, tugging at Kise’s sleeve. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t ask, would I?”

“Do you want me to pretend to be Midorimacchi—”

Akashi shoots him a glare. “How many times do I have to say it, Ryouta? I want _you.”_

Kise makes an undignified sound at the back of his throat. “You’re so cute, Akashicchi,” he murmurs with a grin. “Okay. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

He picks him up and carries him bridal style to the bedroom, laying him down on the bed. Now that it’s come to this, he actually doesn’t know where to start.

He’s grateful when Akashi takes the initiative, crawling on top of Kise so that he’s straddling him. They get undressed, tossing their clothes on the floor, and Kise runs his hands up and down Akashi’s sides, caresses his back and curls his fingers in his hair because he just can’t get enough of touching him. It’s something he so rarely gets to do despite the amount of sex they have.

Akashi seems to enjoy it too, letting out soft groans as he strokes Kise’s dick until it’s fully hard. Then he pours the lube onto his own fingers, reaching down and sinking them inside of himself.

The view Kise gets is fucking incredible. He’s not sure what to focus on, Akashi’s fingers sliding wetly in and out of his hole, or Akashi’s hooded eyes and mouth half-open, lips wet with spit.

When Akashi finally sinks down on Kise’s cock, Kise lets out a drawn-out groan, because _fuck,_ that’s incredible. Akashi is hot and tight and he’s riding Kise at the perfect pace, just slow enough for him to enjoy the friction.

“Shit,” he gasps, gripping Akashi’s hips tightly. “Akashicchi, you feel so good.”

Akashi responds by tipping his head back, letting his mouth fall open in a silent gasp as he takes Kise in deeper.

“I want to hear you,” Kise says, bucking his hips upward. “Can you say my name?”

“Ryouta,” Akashi moans, like it’s been dragged out of him. “Fuck—”

That spurs Kise on, and he starts shifting his hips to meet Akashi halfway. They pick up the pace until their rhythm is erratic, until the pleasure engulfs Kise and he can hardly control himself anymore, gripping Akashi tightly and thrusting fast and hard into the tight heat.

He can feel Akashi tighten around him as he cries out and comes between their stomachs. The look on Akashi’s face becomes plastered in his memory—that brief moment of having surrendered control and replaced it with sheer pleasure. Kise follows suit, filling Akashi with his come, and when Akashi finally pulls off of him, the come drips down his thighs and onto Kise’s legs.

“I guess,” Akashi pants, “we should shower.” He looks beautiful like this, sweat beaded on his forehead, eyes dazed, but Kise doesn’t say anything.

He lets Akashi shower first, taking pride in the way Akashi walks with a bit of a limp. Akashi sinks into the bed when he’s done, hair half-dried and shirt haphazardly thrown on. Kise understands—he’s often much too exhausted to do anything after sex as well. He leaves Akashi be and takes a quick shower himself. Akashi will probably take his leave while Kise’s in the shower anyway.

But when Kise comes back and crawls under the covers, he’s surprised to find a head of red hair on the pillow next to his.

“Akashicchi?” he whispers, and hears the faintest of snores in response. Kise smiles to himself, snuggles up close and throws an arm around Akashi, letting the familiar body heat lull him to sleep.

He wakes up again in the middle of the night when his sharp ears detect movement, and he blinks his eyes blearily open to see Akashi roll out of bed, buttoning up his shirt.

“Akashicchi?” he croaks out. Akashi turns, surprised, and casts Kise an apologetic glance.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I meant to leave earlier, but I overslept. I’ll just be heading out now.”

Later, Kise will blame it on being excessively sleepy and half-awake, but he grabs onto Akashi’s sleeve and tugs. “You don’t have to go,” he mumbles. “Stay here.”

Akashi’s eyes widen, and he smiles. “Okay.”

He crawls back under the covers and it suddenly feels warmer. Kise smiles to himself, pressing his face up against the nape of Akashi’s neck, and falls asleep like that.

He hasn’t slept this well in a while.

 

\---

 

When he wakes up the next morning, it finally sinks in that it’s the first time Akashi has stayed the night. But when he looks to his right, there’s an empty space next to him—and the unmistakable smell of coffee coming from the kitchen.

A grin splits Kise’s face as he pulls on a pair of boxers that he’s not entirely sure are his own, but they’re the only ones in the room so they must be. He picks up a shirt that’s definitely Akashi’s. It doesn’t fit him, so he heads out to the kitchen shirtless.

The sight that greets him makes him choke on his own spit. Akashi is setting the table with two plates of waffles and two cups of freshly brewed coffee. More importantly, though, he’s wearing Kise’s shirt, which is buttoned only halfway up his chest and just barely long enough to cover his ass. Akashi bends over just a little to reach to the far end of the table and yeah, those are _definitely_ Kise’s blue boxers peeking out underneath.

“Good morning, Ryouta,” Akashi says, flashing him a smile. “I took the liberty of making breakfast. I hope you don’t mind.”

Kise sits down, dazed, and takes a sip of the coffee. It’s just the way he likes it, with the perfect amount of cream and sugar. He takes a bite of the waffles, which are crunchy on the outside but melt in his mouth. He thinks he might actually be in heaven.

“Mmm,” is all he can say, closing his eyes and basking in the pleasure of _homemade cooking._ He devours the waffles and coffee within minutes. Across from him, Akashi sips his drink gracefully and cuts the waffles into little squares with a fork and knife. It’s so cute that Kise has to suppress a giggle.

“Thanks for the food,” Kise exclaims with fervour as he gathers their plates.

“It’s not a big deal,” Akashi replies. “I will make you lunch and dinner if you don’t mind me staying.”

“Of course,” Kise answers without hesitation.

And for the first time ever, they spend an entire day together without doing anything sexual. They lounge around on the couch, sharing a tub of ice cream and watching shitty romance movies. Akashi doesn’t cry, as expected. (Kise does, just a little. It’s not his fault that he’s weak for these movies.)

They don’t try to make deep conversation, trading small talk, mostly, of the weather, of their jobs, the new movie Kise’s going to star in. They tread carefully around the topic of their other friends from middle school and manage to talk about both everything and nothing all at once. It’s a good kind of small talk, though. It alleviates a tension that Kise didn’t even know he felt and makes everything feel almost normal.

They play basketball after that, at a court five or so minutes away from Kise’s apartment. It’s been years since either of them have even touched a basketball. Kise hasn’t had time outside of modeling and debuting on the big screen, and Akashi has been consumed with work as the new head of the family business. None of this is surprising, really; they’d both known it would come to this eventually. But it’s still nice, being out in the fresh air under a blue sky reminiscent of those middle school days, hearing nothing but the pounding of the ball against cement, feeling nothing but adrenaline pumping through their blood.

Five minutes in, Akashi is winning, but that’s not surprising to either of them. What’s more surprising is that half an hour later they’ve both stopped keeping score. They head back up to the apartment, feeling sweaty and exhausted and alive.

They shower together, in the most innocent sense of the word. Perhaps they’re both too tired, but neither of them initiate anything. Kise simply revels in the feeling of Akashi’s fingers, surprisingly gentle, carding through his soapy hair and kneading the muscles on his back.

By nighttime, they’re curled up in their regular spot on the couch. Kise leans his head absentmindedly on Akashi’s shoulder as he looks out the window at the blinking lights of the buildings and the faint lights of the stars.

At some point through the movie he realizes, as he watches Akashi’s chest rise and fall, that Akashi is asleep. His eyelashes are surprisingly long and his face looks soft and peaceful. It’s then, as he studies Akashi’s face, dimly glowing by the light of the TV, that it hits him.

It hits him how happy he had been all day long. The kind of happiness he was certain he’d never achieve after Aomine happened. The kind of happiness that seemed so distant yesterday as he watched Akashi’s eyes harden at the thought of Midorima’s wedding.

He vaguely recalls wondering why Akashi never stayed after sex, why they’d never actually hung out, and realizes he’s gotten what he wanted, but in a twisted way. Because as much as he wants Akashi to open up to him, he doesn’t want it to be at the cost of Akashi’s own heartbreak. He wants Akashi to stay with him out of his own free will and not out of loneliness, to need him, not just as a shoulder to lean on, but as a—

Something clicks into place then, and Kise bites down hard on his lip. He’s suddenly glad that Akashi is fast asleep next to him. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Akashi were to open his eyes and see the sudden tears cascading down Kise’s face. He hiccups silently, covering his face in shame and trying desperately to quell the affection rising up inside him. The affection that had, perhaps, been there all along.

 

\---

 

Kise has had his fair share of terrible ideas in his short lifetime, and this is definitely one of them. He has essentially dug his own grave, and there is no way out.

After that day, Akashi leaves for a business trip, and when he returns two weeks later, it’s as if everything has been forgotten. The look in Akashi’s eyes is hardened once again, every move of Akashi’s calculated and purposeful as he strides across the room and leads Kise to the bed.

It feels good, as always, the way Akashi’s mouth fits around his cock, sucking and licking at all his sensitive spots. Akashi’s fingers, thrusting in and out of him, hitting his prostate again and again, but with his other hand clenched around the base of Kise’s cock he’s driven crazy with the need to come. Akashi finally lets him, after far too long, and he comes apart with a strangled cry that’s practically ripped out of him.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. Not when Akashi looks so distant. Not when Akashi leaves without even having reached his own climax, and turns down Kise’s offer to return the favour.

Not when Kise knows how it feels to have Akashi open up to him, to curl up next to him on the couch and thread his fingers through his hair and feel his heartbeat, steady in his chest.

It’s wrong, all wrong, and Kise doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t even know what he did wrong. But maybe it’s not something he did. Maybe it’s simply the fact that he isn’t the right person.

Sure enough, Kise receives Midorima’s wedding invitation in the mail later that day, which only pours salt on his wound. For the briefest of moments on the day when Akashi stayed with him, he had thought, stupidly, that he could be enough. That he could somehow replace Midorima in Akashi’s heart the way Akashi had replaced Aomine in his. No, that wasn’t quite the word. Being with Akashi didn’t just fill the void in Kise left by Aomine. It lit a fire inside of Kise anew, an even more intense and passionate fire that burned from the inside out and threatened to consume him. And that made the cold look in Akashi’s eyes even more devastating.

Akashi doesn’t have to say a word. Kise knows that he’s only in this for the sex. That was what Kise had intended too, in the beginning, before things spiraled out of hand. But if that’s what Akashi wants, then Kise will do it. He’ll cater to Akashi’s needs, just so long as Akashi keeps him by his side.

Outside of the time he spends with Akashi, Kise is practically swamped with work. His schedule is packed with photoshoots and interviews, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to feign a smile, even though that’s one of the only things he’s good at. On his rare day off, which also happens to be several days before Midorima’s wedding, Kise wakes up with a headache. So maybe he’s feeling a little under the weather, but he wants to see Akashi and a little cold isn’t going to stop him.

He drinks lots of water just in case. When Akashi comes over, he’s feeling a little better—dizzy, but better. He puts on a smile and lets Akashi lead him to the bedroom, bites his lip at the queasy feeling in his stomach as Akashi ties him to the headboard, squeezes his eyes shut as Akashi pushes inside of him. But he realizes soon enough that sheer willpower isn’t enough to push back the nausea that is threatening to overwhelm him. He weighs his choices—either stop now, or possibly vomit all over Akashi, and yeah, the first is definitely more appealing.

“Stop,” he rasps. Akashi pulls out immediately, eyes widening with panic as he takes Kise’s hand tightly in his. Kise doesn’t meet his gaze.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. Please tell me what’s wrong.” The concern in his voice is making everything worse. Akashi isn’t supposed to care, isn’t supposed to pretend like their relationship is perfectly functional, to pretend like it’s not based on selfish desires and lies.

Kise inhales shakily. “I—I’m not feeling well today,” he breathes, and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

He hears Akashi let out a breath. “No, I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice sounds so small and guilty that it makes Kise’s chest tighten. “I should have noticed you weren’t feeling well. I’m sorry. We’ll stop here.” He presses a hand to Kise’s forehead. “Do you need some water? Medicine?”

Kise nods and turns his head, burying his face in the pillow. He feels so sick all of a sudden, and he knows it’s not just because of the cold he’s caught. He lays there unmoving, lifting his arm weakly to let Akashi put his shirt back on, burying himself deeper underneath the covers that Akashi places over him gently. He wishes that Akashi would stop being a decent human being and stop being so nice to him. It would make things so much _easier._

He hears footsteps leaving, and then approaching several minutes later.

“I brought water and cold medicine,” Akashi says softly. “Can you get up?”

Kise doesn’t move. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I just wanted to see you so bad. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy.”

“Don’t force yourself,” Akashi says, placing a hand on his back. “I’m serious. Don’t ever feel obligated to do anything for me. Taking care of yourself should always be your top priority.”

But he _wants_ Akashi, wants him so badly, wants things to go back to the way they were before, on that day when everything seemed perfect and Kise’s life felt like something out of a dream.

"I know. I was being stupid,” Kise says, sounding miserable even to his own ears. “Aominecchi would be disappointed in me," he adds, even though Aomine is the furthest thing on his mind right now. "Are you disappointed?"

Akashi sighs. "Ryouta."

"Midorimacchi wouldn't do this," he blurts out, feeling hot tears stain the fabric of the pillow. "Midorimacchi would be smarter than this. He'd take care of his health."

"Ryouta, please shut up."

Akashi lifts his head, wipes away his tears with his thumbs and presses a kiss to his forehead.

"I’m not disappointed,” Akashi says softly. “But you know what would make me happy? If you go to sleep right now. Nothing is more important to me than your health."

"Akashicchi.."

Kise feels new tears prickle at the back of his eyes. They fall before he can stop them.

Akashi pulls Kise's head onto his shoulders and lets him rest there. "For God's sake, stop crying."

 

\---

 

Kise gets what he wants once again, in the worst way. They spend the rest of the day without having sex. They sit on the couch and watch a basketball game on TV, with Kise wrapped up in three layers of blankets and sipping slowly at Akashi’s homemade chicken soup which is too good and too hot to drink.

Akashi holds Kise’s hand tightly through it all, rubbing circles on the back of his hand. Kise knows it’s just because Akashi feels bad for trying to get into his pants without noticing that he was sick. He knows, still, that Akashi’s heart lives somewhere hours away with Midorima, whose heart resides with Takao. He knows it’s a fruitless chase, and he feels like crying, but doesn’t. He’s cried enough today already. So he just leans his head on Akashi’s shoulder. The blankets smell like Akashi, or maybe he’s smelling Akashi’s hair next to him. He’s not sure, but it’s so comforting, somehow, that he doesn’t even notice he’s fallen asleep until he wakes up and Akashi isn’t there.

Dread settles in the pit of his stomach and he looks around blearily. The clock tells him he’s been asleep for nine hours. He heaves a sigh of relief when the door creaks open and Akashi walks in, placing a bag of groceries on the counter.

He walks over and presses a hand, methodically, to Kise’s forehead. “Looks like your fever’s gone down. How do you feel?”

“Better,” Kise says, flashing Akashi an enthusiastic smile just to prove his point. “You can go back now,” he adds reluctantly. “I wouldn’t want to keep you. I mean, you’ve got a wedding to prepare for, and all.”

Akashi crosses his arms. “Is that _really_ that important to you?”

Kise blinks, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Shintarou’s wedding has nothing to do with this.”

“Sorry,” Kise says on reflex. He hadn’t meant to rub it in even more. He knows just how painful unrequited feelings can be, and has experienced them more than once, anyways. “I won’t mention it anymore, if that’ll make you feel better.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Akashi says exasperatedly. “Shintarou has nothing to do with this—with _us._ ”

Kise’s eyes widen. “What?”

Akashi takes a seat next to him on the couch. The couch dips to the side a little, and Kise realizes just how right it feels to have Akashi’s weight next to him. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I just want you to know that you’re not obligated to do this. Like I said in the beginning, I don’t have a broken heart. I did, but that was before. I know you feel responsible, since you initiated this, and that you feel obligated to stay with me because you want to help, to the point where you’re sacrificing your own well-being. What I’m telling you is that I don’t want it to be this way. I want us to be just that—us. And if the only reason you’re forcing yourself to be with me is out of decency, then I’d rather you not be with me at all.”

Kise just sits there with his jaw half-open. He feels like his world has been flipped upside down. All this time he’d been worrying about Akashi not returning his feelings…and Akashi had been thinking the same thing. It was impossible.

“Me?” Kise blurts out. “Me, feel obligated? That’s not it, Akashicchi. I like you, and I have all this time.”

Akashi’s eyes widen.

Kise goes on. “Look, I—I didn’t just come up with this idea out of the blue. I mean, sure, part of it was because I was lonely, but mostly I just wanted an excuse to be with you. Why do you think I chose you and not someone else? I do want to help. I do want to make you happy, but that’s because I want you. If I could choose, I would want you to be happy with me, and not with someone else, but I always thought that—that you were in love with Midorimacchi.”

“I was, at one point in time,” Akashi replies. “But it was a fruitless chase, and I had pretty much gotten over him by the time I took up your proposal. When I heard about the wedding, I was upset at first, but when I thought about it, I was really relieved that I could finally give up on the past and leave behind the last of my feelings for him.”

“Oh,” Kise laughs shakily. He feels like the biggest idiot in the entire world. “And here I thought you were upset, that you came to see me because—because you wanted him and I was the second best thing you could get—”

Akashi runs a hand over his face. “And that’s why you offered—” He chuckles bitterly. “I assumed that was because you felt obligated to do it, that you didn’t actually want to be with me. That you spent the day with me, and had sex with me, out of pity.”

“ _That’s_ why you didn’t let me make you come after that?” Kise blurts out.

Akashi sighs. “I didn’t want you to think I was just in it for my own pleasure.” He smiles reluctantly. “I suppose I was wrong. It’s weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy to be wrong in my life.”

Kise can’t help it—he bursts out laughing. It’s stupid, this whole thing. Both of them are stupid, but at least they’re idiots together. “Neither do I,” he says, pressing a kiss to Akashi’s lips. “Maybe we should make up for all the things we missed.”

“Maybe you should get some rest,” Akashi says, pulling away and flicking him in the forehead. “But if you promise not to have sex with me, I’ll spend the night here, and we’ll wait until you fully recover.”

Kise pouts, but he knows better than to argue.

That night they sleep together, simple as that, lying next to each other in the bed with their limbs tangled together, Akashi’s comforting warmth radiating against Kise’s skin, and it feels like home.

 

\---

 

The night after that, they make love for the first time, just the two of them. It feels like reading an old favourite book for the second time with a new perspective. Kise’s skin burns with heat and his heart races in his chest as Akashi thrusts into him nice and slow and sweet, mouthing unintelligible words against his shoulder that sound like music to his ears. Afterwards they press their lips together, not so much kissing as sharing air. He rests his hands on the nape of Akashi’s neck and plays with the soft hairs there. Akashi nuzzles his face into the crook of Kise’s neck and rubs little circles on the small of his back.

Kise can get used to the whole idea of Akashi staying the night, he thinks, as he lets his eyes flutter closed. And then Akashi leans up, bites his earlobe and whispers, voice hoarse and dirty, “Don’t think I’m letting you sleep tonight.”

Yeah, Kise can _so_ get used to this.

 

\---

 

Kise reveals his new relationship status to Aomine through text, surprised when he doesn’t feel a single shred of resentment as he looks at Aomine’s contact info on his screen. He grins when he receives a text back.

_ha ha kise, very funny. its not april fools you bastard did you actually think i would believe you_

In response, Kise simply sends him a selfie of him and Akashi passionately making out. When he picks up his phone again he scrolls through the series of horrified texts with glee.

_kise what the fuck_

_please tell me this is a badly photoshopped prank_

_you guys have scarred me for LIFE_

_oh my god the two most annoying people in my life have come together to torment me is that what’s happening what did i do to deserve this_

_shit uh. is akashi reading this because by annoying i meant awesome yeah thats what i meant_

From his spot on Kise’s lap, Akashi plucks the phone out of Kise’s hands.

 _Thank you for your blessing, Daiki. I’m honoured to hear what you truly think of me. I’ll be sure not to torment you_ too _much next time we visit America._

“Doesn’t that sound kind of ominous, Akashicchi?” Kise giggles as Akashi puts down the phone, which is buzzing with increasing intensity—probably a litany of hurried apologies.

Akashi smiles. “That’s the point.”

 

\---

 

Midorima’s reaction, on the other hand, is something Kise has the pleasure of witnessing in person. It’s two days after Midorima and Takao have returned from the honeymoon—they didn’t want to ruin Midorima’s big day, after all.

Gathered around the table at a restaurant, Akashi announces the news proudly with Kise’s hand in his. Midorima promptly spits out his drink and Takao proceeds to laugh at him for the next five minutes.

When Midorima has finally gathered his wits, he chokes out, “How did this happen?”

“Why, it’s all thanks to you, Shintarou,” Akashi says, holding out his cup and clinking it against Kise’s. They sip delightfully as a look of utter confusion crosses Midorima’s face.

“I didn’t do anything,” Midorima stammers.

“Precisely,” Akashi says, and sips his drink.


End file.
